


Wake

by Azur



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Eyes, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2520095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azur/pseuds/Azur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaneki's eyes are the grey of storm clouds, and Uta wants to pluck them out of his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake

Kaneki's eyes are the grey of storm clouds, and Uta wants to pluck them out of his face. 

He pokes and prods at soft flesh, fingers lingering longer than he needs to as he takes the measurements for a new mask. Kaneki fidgets, shifts about on the stool, but doesn't pull away even when Uta's fingers come too close to his eyes. 

_It would be so easy._ But Touka is watching him from the corner of her eyes--blue like the open sea and just as striking--and it's too early for the denouement. As tempting as the thought is. 

She thinks they are friends. She's not wrong, but friendship doesn't mean to him what it does to her. He nods when she notices his stare. She smiles back.

Focussing on the measuring tape in his hands, he wraps it around Kaneki's head and asks, "Do you like them? Eyepatches?"

"Ah, uh." He removes the eyepatch with slow, hesitant movements and avoids answering the question. "I can't control my eye. It goes red whenever I'm hungry."

But it reverts back to its original state. 

Kaneki doesn't know how lucky he is. 

Uta is envious. 

\-----

Blood trails down Uta's cheek, from his empty eye socket. It drips onto the marble counter. 

He'd scooped out his kakugan, curious to see what would reform. He can feel the empty space being refilled and the minute twitch of new muscles and nerves.

The eye in his hand is pitch black and leaking fluid. He crushes it between his fingers, and it is collapses as easily as a human's. Water flows down the sink, murky and dilute, and he hears an almost inaudible clink when lens hits porcelain and disappears. 

There is a mirror in his bathroom that spans most of the wall. 

When he looks into it, crimson irises stare back--a thin ring of red against black sclera and dilated pupils. 

He has never seen anything but his kakugan and wonders what colour his eyes were. 

He'll never know. 

\-----

Uta peels off layers of muscle and connective tissue with his teeth and chews with the slow, methodical tempo of someone who is savouring the flavour of ecstasy for the first and last time. It is supple and tender, and when the eye breaks open, vitreous humour slides down his throat like jelly--tasting of what he imagines honey is to human's. 

The iris is chestnut brown, and he had taken great care to remove it from the cooling corpse of the young woman beside him. 

He stows the body away and prepares to open shop. 

\-----

A brunette opens the door and startles, eyes darting over his tattoos, piercings and sunglasses. Her hand is clasped with a young man's, and the two enter. Their steps are tentative as they approach.

"Welcome to HySy." He can see the way their bodies relax; he continues, keeping his voice soft and smooth. "First time?" 

They nod. They young lady leads. "We were hoping to get masks made for a masquerade party next week…" A faint dusting of blush around her cheeks and ears as she glances to her partner and back down. 

"Of course. Please, sit." He gestures to the spinning stools he keeps scatters around. Uta turns to his table, shuffling papers until he has two blank sheets. "Any preferences?"

"Uhm, something, green?" She makes a few aborted gestures with her free hand, the long sleeves of her ruffled shirt riding up and exposing a dainty wrist. 

Uta looks to the other, who'd been silent up until now. 

The guy shrugs helplessly, looking just as unsure. "Green's nice. The theme's something like, a 'Prelude to New Beginnings'." His hair is cropped short, but strands still fall in his face as he shifts.

"Surprise us?"

"You're the expert. Have at it, I s'pose." 

His chest flutters in excitement. These types of customers are always his favourite; he's free to do as he likes and just create. 

Uta is finishing up the last of the estimations hours later. 

"Your eyes are very pretty." They are a sea foam green that reminds him of chalk and pastel sketches. Lines flow onto the page as he alternates between measuring facial structure and outlining the finishing details on the draft. 

She mumbled, "Thanks."

He hasn't eaten green in a while. Uta likes the colour well enough, but wants to feast on Kaneki's gray eyes more.

"The masks will be ready in a few days. I will notify the two of you by call." 

He shows them the illustrations, watching as their expressions light up--surprised but pleased. They leave behind their names and contact info, and exit with praises on their lips. 

Uta feels amused and something close to fond as he stares at their retreating backs. Human's are such novel things. 

\-----

A clown's face smiles from his window, the mask meticulously painted and lacquered. The individual is hanging onto the ledge with one hand, and waving cheerily with the other. 

He nods back, eyes glittering in the dim glow of nighttime, and gives a toothy grin. 

In the next moment, the person drops and is gone. 

\-----

Itori enters the shop with a bang of the door, all curved lines and flowing, black fabrics. "Uta, hey, have you seen Kaneki lately? He's got white hair!" 

He raises an eyebrow at her, and her expression turns sheepish. Her fingers comb through long auburn hair, and she holds up a bag. "I've brought drinks." 

With an amused huff, he flips the shop sign to 'Closed'. 

They end up sprawled on his couch, Itori recounting the happenings--some of which he already knows--and pouring them drinks in the careless manner that she never shows in public. 

"…black nails. Looks like the world's out to get him. Dark circles under his eyes and everything. He's such an adorable kid." She laughs into her glass. "You sure know how to pick 'em. I might almost feel bad." 

He hums noncommittally in response and takes a sip of warm blood. "It's unfortunate; he's got such nice eyes." 

"My, are you having second thoughts now?" The grin she shoots him is sly, slightly mocking.

He rolls his eyes. Scoffs. They both know he's enjoying the show just as much as she is. "I want his eyes." Wants to ruin Kaneki for being so unappreciative, so careless with a colour so pleasing. 

Uta wonders what expression Kaneki--who desperately wants to be human--would make if his kakugan was permanent. 

"I'm sure your eyes are just as nice," she jokes. "I don't think I've actually seen them before. Show me?" Nudging his shoulder with her own, her drink is dangerously close to spilling. 

"You have already." The lie slips off his tongue easily. "I'm not going to show you again if it's not going to stick in that empty head of yours." His tone is teasing. 

"My memories are impeccable, thank you very much." She sniffs, lifting her chin imperiously at him.

"Of course they are." He nods along, inflection a dull monotone. 

"Jerk." 

\-----

Kaneki's kakugan is the bright red of freshly spilled blood. And then it is gone in a spray of liquid gore, dripping off the lance-like quinque embedded in his head. The scream he lets loose is shrill, and it echoes in Uta's ears from where he is perched on a broken pillar.

Might almost feel bad, indeed. Uta glances at the mask lying at his side. 

He can barely interpret the staccato of words and phrases, distorted as they are--sounding like a transposed and scratched record. 

The half ghouls lurches to his feet; his kagune bursts from his back in a flurry of sharp angles and unerring force, and the futility of his struggle is beautiful. 

Kaneki truly is the perfect fool. No one else could have played the role so well. 

He is eviscerated and falls limp like a rag doll, sliding off the quinque into a sprawl of misaligned limbs. His body lies the centrepiece of a catacomb of decaying corpses. 

Arima steps towards the body, movements unhurried and efficient; he raises his weapon--

And falls back with a shallow wound in his torso, blood dribbling down his side. 

"…I missed." 

What a shame. An opportunity to eliminate the _God of Death_ lost. 

Uta's mask is affixed to his face and his voice comes out in a muffled, bland drone. The blond hair of his wig is held back by a thin, plastic headband, and his black jacket is the one he hasn't worn since his youth. It still fits him well. How nostalgic. 

The others of Pierrot will forgive his selfish whimsy. After all, _there's no point to living if things aren't interesting_.

"No Face." The man raises his quinque and it crackles with energy, sparks arcing off of it in fractals.

"The Owl has appeared." Uta notes the moment the statement registers, how the human's stance goes rigid in indecision and he tightens his grip on his weapon. Even the impassive _God of Death_ has tells. 

They both know the other Doves are incapable of fending off the One-eyed Owl. 

_Tick, tock._ Every second is another investigator dead, and it's a long way from V14 to the rooftop battleground. 

Uta knows Arima's choice: He's still only human. 

Turning his back he ambles towards Kaneki's body. He means it as a display of his honesty, but he's tensed to dodge nonetheless. 

A quite rustle of cloth marks Arima's exit. 

Crouching, he pokes at Kaneki's cheek. "Kaneki?"

No response. Uta can still hear the faint beating of his heart though, so he is still alive. 

They are alone, and Kaneki is defenceless; and his eye lies beneath a flimsy layer of flesh. 

There's no script for this. 

Fingers trailing up the contours of a tired face, Uta pauses before digging two fingers into the lateral canthus and removing the orbit. 

Kaneki spasms and falls still. 

He rolls the eye between his fingers, examining the grey ring of the iris and the dilated pupil. It isn't as pretty outside of Kaneki's face, but the taste of it is strange and addictively sweet on his tongue--and so unlike human viscera. He licks the blood off his fingers. 

Tearing pieces of flesh off the surrounding corpses, he stuffs them down Kaneki's throat and waits. 

Rize's regenerative ability is something abnormal and fascinating to watch. The skin around the wounds comes alive and writhes, slowly weaving together as torn organs are resuspended and knit together. 

Uta pulls his mask off and sits. 

When Kaneki wakes, he's clutching his head and whimpering--eyes tightly shut. 

"Welcome back." 

Kaneki's head snaps up, and their eyes meet.

_Two kakugan stare back._

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. First time fanfic, first time finishing anything like this. :)
> 
> This is a thing that happened after checking the TG kinkmeme page, [here](http://tokyoghoulkink.dreamwidth.org/1787.html?thread=185851#cmt185851). I thought it might be interesting, though I don't think I meet the prompt very well. Haha. I tried. º u º
> 
> I'd appreciate some critique if anyone has any. Was it badly paced? Too rushed? Not descriptive enough? Completely OOC? Eye-searingly awful characterizations? Too much tell? Stilted dialogue? Shitty flow? Confusing? Just a general clusterfuck?


End file.
